


Conversations within the Confines of a Spare Room

by BlaugranaCielo



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen, This doesn't even have a real plot, written while I was bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaugranaCielo/pseuds/BlaugranaCielo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Munir peruses a couple of doors lining the hallway, head tilted to one side. Samper massages his temples, muttering something under his breath. Sergi shuffles awkwardly at the back.</p><p>and then. “Okay, yeah, it’s here. C'mon.”</p><p>They step inside, albeit reluctantly. It’s not a closet, rather, it’s a room, despite being small in size.</p><p>“I don’t think this is it-”</p><p>The door swings shut.</p><p>~or~</p><p>The one where some of your lesser known Barça dudes get stuck in a supply closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations within the Confines of a Spare Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic that I found in my drafts, written a while ago. Uh, enjoy?
> 
> (Note: 'Sergi' refers to Roberto, not Samper.)

“I think this is a great mediation space.” Babunski declares.

  
Samper gazes longingly up at the tiny window about 5 metres above them that separates him and the relatively more sane world.

  
Sergi tries switching on his phone, again.

  
_20 minutes previous_

  
The hallways always have an echoey quality to them, but it feels as if it’s been intensified by a hundred right now, as Samper and Sergi walk rigidly and awkwardly through, wordless. If there’s any upside to this, though, at least they get to skip out on speed drills, although it’s somewhat compensated for by the prospect of having to carry several boxes of equipment back to the pitch. The footsteps are the only sound accompanying them.

  
“You know where the supply closet is, right?” Sergi asks casually.

  
Samper doesn’t reply.

  
“Right?” He repeats, a little more uneasily.

  
Samper clears his throat. Shoves his hands in his pockets.

  
“No.” He says nonchalantly. Continues walking. Sergi follows after a brief pause in step.

  
//

  
They walk into Munir around the next corner. He stops sipping from his Starbucks milkshake to raise his weirdly thick eyebrows at them.

  
“What are you guys doing here? Aren’t you meant to be at training?”

  
“Aren’t you?” Samper replies flatly. Munir shrugs, daintily taking a sip of the pinky red liquid. “Woke up late, man, you know.” He says vaguely, waving his free hand in the air.

  
“We’re getting some equipment.” Sergi offers helpfully. He pauses. “Uh, we don’t really know where the supply closet is, though.” He adds, as an afterthought.

  
Munir nods distractedly. Samper shoves his hands more forcefully down his pockets, like he’s trying to be engulfed on purpose.

  
“Mind if I come?” Munir asks casually, finishing up the last dregs of his fruity drink and tossing it in a nearby bin.

  
“Why?” Samper asks candidly, unconsciously frowning. he crosses his arms. Munir shrugs again, leaning against the wall

“Well, I get to miss a bit of training, right?” He says.

  
There’s an awkward pause for a moment.

  
“Uh. Okay. Sure.”  That comes from Sergi, albeit hesitantly.

  
//

“You said you knew where it was.”

  
“Yeah, I do, man, just chill for a second, alright? Let me find it.”

  
Munir peruses a couple of doors lining the hallway, head tilted to one side. Samper massages his temples, muttering somehting under his breath. Sergi shuffles awkwardly at the back.

  
and then. “Okay, yeah, it’s here. C'mon.”

  
They step inside, albeit reluctantly. It’s not a closet, rather, it’s a room, despite being small in size.

  
“I don’t think this is it-”

  
The door swings shut.

  
//

  
“Shut up!” Samper hisses, motioning for the others to be quiet. He presses his ear to the door crack, listening carefully. “I think I hear someone-”

  
The door swings open just as Samper is attempting to move his head away, thudding forcefully against his nose.

  
“Fuck!” He hisses, holding it tentatively.

  
“Oh, sorry.” Babunski says mildly, standing in the doorway. He takes a step forward, releases the door handle and the door begins to swing back ominously. Sergi’s eyes widen.

  
“Don’t let it close-”

  
It swings shut with a decisive creak, and Sergi slumps back against the wall again.

  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Samper bemoans, still clutching his nose.

  
~

  
_Present Time_

  
They’ve been here for more than 15 minutes. The only phone present is Munir’s, which is inconveniently dead.

  
“So, are you like, boho?” Munir asks, somewhat fascinated.

  
“I simply enjoy having a spiritual connection with nature and with others, and I wish to spread that.” Babunski says simply, and Munir gapes a little.

  
“So… You’re into, like, hippy culture, then?”

  
“If that’s what you call it.”

  
Munir looks vaguely impressed. He takes a seat on the floor next to Babunski, cross legged, and leans forward curiously.  
“Have you been to coachella?”

~

  
“He sure is getting into his spiritual enlightenment.” Sergi says dryly, somewhat unexpectedly. Samper almost smiles at that. They stand there for a while in peaceful silence, absentmindedly watching Munir and Babunski discuss the meaning of life.

  
“Hey-” Sergi begins, unsurely. He stops for a moment, like he’s thinking, then tries again. “We don’t really know each other all that well, right?”

  
“No.”

  
“So…” He says vaguely. “Uh, what do you do? Like, outside of football, I mean.”

  
Samper considers this. “Nothing much, I guess.” He says blankly and truthfully.

  
“Like, anything, really. I don’t know, do you hang out with your girlfriend or whatever?”

  
Samper scuffs his shoes along the floor uneasily, fiddling with his pockets. “I don’t have one.” Then, afterwards, quickly, just so he doesn’t have to listen to the pity party, he says without thinking. “You do, though.”

  
Sergi seems midway between surprised and freaked out. “Uh, yeah, I do. How do you-”

  
“Instagram, you know.” He says quickly. He shrugs casually, for good measure.

  
“I- wait.” Sergi says, furrowing his brows and running a hand through thick curls. “You have Insta?”

  
“Yeah.”

“You don’t hit like on my photos.” Sergi says accusingly, and Samper conveniently bends down to tie his shoelace.

  
~~

  
“Hey, man.” Sergi says after a while, after their half assed bonding conversation had been cut short.

  
They’re all sitting on the floor now, in something resembling a circle.

  
“What.” Samper says flatly.

  
“It’s alright if you don’t have a girlfriend or whatever.”

  
Samper frowns. “Okay, thanks, I guess? I know that.” He says cautiously, unsure of where this is leading. Sergi seems to become more loose tongued after being subjected to long periods of confined boredom.

  
Sergi waves his arms around expressively. “Like, it doesn’t matter how long it takes to find the one.”

  
Samper stares at him. “Thanks? Uh, I’m sure I’ll find her someday?”

  
“I know loads of chicks.” Munir interjects. He stretches out his legs and nods intently in Samper’s direction. “I could hook you up with one-”

  
“Okay, no, please. I don’t need, like- wingmen, or whatever. Just- it’s fine.”

  
Munir raises his eyebrows dubiously and makes a face. “Are you sure, man? I don’t know, you look kinda lonely- no offence or anything. Like, it would take a bit of work, sure, but we could find you someone.” He says, going for the reassuring tone and falling flat.

  
Samper puts his head in his hands. “Can we stop talking about this? Please?”

  
~

  
They’ve gotten to that point where life advice is being exchanged. At least, on Babunski’s and Munir’s behalf. Samper is tuning out their voices, head resting dully against the wall. Sergi makes half hearted attempts to contribute to the conversation, throwing in the occasional “right, yeah.” or a “mmhm”.

Munir is currently talking about how unsatisfied he is with his life, or at least as unsatisfied as you can be when you’re paid millions to play a game you’ve been playing since childhood.

  
“I don’t know.” He saying, sighing dramatically. “I just feel like- I haven’t lived yet, you know? Like, I wanna travel the world and get high and get tattoos, and like, do everything, you know?”

Babunski nods understandingly. “Of course. That is understandable. But really, it’s up to you. You can do all that, if you want.”

“Yeah?”

  
“Your future is in your hands.”

  
Samper turns to face them suddenly, glaring at Munir. “I swear to God, if you like, pack up and leave just before a match or something, I will-” he stops abruptly, perking up at the sound of the door handle turning from the outside.

  
There’s a small creak and Jordi pops his head through the gap between door and wall. He surveys the items they’ve knocked onto the floor and the expressions on their faces.

  
“Wow. Are you guys alright?”

  
Samper pushes past him roughly. “Just fine.” He mutters under his breath, knocking over a fake plastic ballon d'or in the process. It falls on the floor with a hollow clatter.

  
~

  
“So like, what happened back there?” Jordi asks a bit later, at the end of training.

  
Sergi sighs and looks pensive. “Oh, the usual.” He says dismissively. He looks over towards Babunski explaining something fervently to Samper, who’s making a ‘what the fuck’ face. He blinks, once, twice. "Bonding and all that, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)  
> Comment if you want, I guess lol.
> 
> Tumblr: blaugranasky.tumblr.com


End file.
